Good Luck

We wake up to rain
pounding the window
while across town
you get ready.

Right now your mom
is telling you rain is lucky
on your wedding day.
But really, what else
is she going to say?

I can tell you
it rained on ours.
And I won't say
it's been easy
but here we are
these years later
opening the window
in our hotel room
fingers lightly touching
wet from the rain.

Poemo de la koro

(a love poem in Esperanto)

Mi doni li mia koro post
longa varmega sordida tago

Li puri gxi kun lia lango
poluri gxi kun lia propra
kaj redoni gxi al mi nova

Last to Fall

You're
the last to fall
into what we call
the trap
the ball
and chain

I know
you'll try to be
the last
to call
it quits
go ahead
and bawl
let her crawl
back to you
as often
as needed

don't build
the wall
that so often
climbs between
be the first
to say sorry
my fault
move on
when it's hers

this is all
I have to
offer
I'm sorry
it's small

The Water is Wide (variation)

A friend sent an interesting request this morning. She wanted to adapt this song into a love song instead of a song of betrayal (tho they are inter-related, non?). Since the music will be kept, maintaining the syllabic structure is key.

The original:

The water is wide, I cannot get o'er
Neither have I wings to fly
Give me a boat that can carry two
And both shall row, my love and I

A ship there is and she sails the sea
She's loaded deep as deep can be
But not so deep as the love I'm in
I know not if I sink or swim

I leaned my back against an oak
Thinking it was a trusty tree
But first it bent and then it broke
So did my love prove false to me

I reached my finger into some soft bush
Thinking the fairest flower to find
I pricked my finger to the bone
And left the fairest flower behind

Oh love be handsome and love be kind
Gay as a jewel when first it is new
But love grows old and waxes cold
And fades away like the morning dew

Must I go bound while you go free
Must I love a man who doesn't love me
Must I be born with so little art
As to love a man who'll break my heart

When cockle shells turn silver bells
Then will my love come back to me
When roses bloom in winter's gloom
Then will my love return to me


~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My "happy ending for lesbians" variation (attempting to keep as much of the original imagery as possible):

The Water Is Wide
The water is wide, I cannot get o'er
Neither have I wings to fly
Give me a boat that can carry two
And both shall row, my love and I

A ship there is and she sails the sea
She's loaded deep as deep can be
But not so deep as the love we're in
We never will sink while one can swim

I climbed high up into an oak
Thinking it was a trusty tree
Ach, first it bent and then it broke
But my love was right there to catch me

I reached my fingers into the meadow
To pluck a bouquet for my sweet miss
Those fingers I pricked for my troubles
My fairest flower healed with a kiss

Oh love be tender and love be bold
Gay as a jewel when we share it new
And love stay with us as we grow old
Fresh every day like morning dew

Though we are bound let us feel free
I'll wait for you if you'll wait for me
For there will be times when we're apart
Though of two mouths, let's speak with one heart

Oh cockle shells turn silver bells
When my love roams along with me
Oh roses bloom in winter's room
When my love roams along with me

Pick Any Three

Because we like to travel
and we're already in debt.

Because we're really busy
with other things to do.

Because sleep is something
we don't want to give up.

Because we can't even keep
a plant alive.

Because we work late,
and our careers come first.

Because we felt the urge
in different years.

Because we can't agree
whose turn it is to feed the dog.

Because I remember the screaming
and it might be what I'd do.

Because we like to help out friends
by taking them off their hands --
as long as we can give them back
at the end of the day.

Because we can't see further
than two months down the road.

Because we don't always live
in the same city.

Because we still have time
if we change our minds.

Killing ghosts

We walk hand in hand
past the high school where I
spent far too many miserable days
wondering when I'd
ever be pretty or interesting
enough to get a boyfriend

Now here you are
several boyfriends later,
a husband even
beautiful, kind, loving
making me laugh
every step of this tour
through the boneyard
of adolescence.

Your hand in mine
pulses out a message
back to that doubtful
awkward girl:
everything will be all right
don't give up hope
love will come to you
if you can wait
through the empty years
to the full ones.

Curriculum Vita

He introduces me
a friend of the family
safe boring career,
a recent award.
I smile politely
hold out a hand.

She looks over
my conservative suit
designer frames
wedding ring
firmly implanted --
dismisses an obvious
non-threat.

I make small talk
ask about his sister,
the parents,
encourage her
easy assessment

even as I catalogue
the prime uneraseable
omission from the resume

that night
back when we were
bony-young beauties
unstoppable
immortal

skinny dipping
in the moonlit ocean
and what happened after
on the rocks
and in the cemetery

that's private history
our own personal cv
not for distribution
to the general public


~~~~~~~

I'm on the road again - have a couple more to share when I get back, but must dash out now for more sightseeing...

All this and more

She's left again
and each time she goes
i know i'm supposed to say
a little part of me goes with her

but it doesn't
i'm all right here
one hundred per cent
me

i can't afford to give
pieces of myself
away to other
life travellers

and she is still she
wherever she goes

but if we happen
to be in the same place
we are so much more

destination straight ahead

you, me
dog, sky
trailer

expectations
melting on the
black tar highway

day jobs
chomped up by
unending clouds

the past
exits through a
duct-taped tailpipe

exhaust-ion
left behind

widening
a hole in
the ozone

not our problem
we won't pass
this spot
again

Label Reminder

Hello fellow MayDay-ers!

Great to see all the creativity flowing (erupting, surging, coursing, oozing...) around here! So far, one-third of the way through May, we've got 52 poems from 14 poets.

Please remember to label your posts. This is a favour to your rapt readers, who want to be able to pull up everything you've written! You'll note that I've labeled any that were missing with my magic administrative powers.

I will try to keep an up-to-date tally of poems next to people's names, but it will be accurate within a couple of days, not up to the minute! Kudos to Kerry for going 9-for-9 10-for-10 days so far!

Enjoy...

Planning the Perfect Party

Chips and Dip
Cokes and Rum
Madonna and Timberlake
Veggie Tray and Cookie Dough
Guitar Hero and Foreplay

Cop-Poets and Priest-Soldiers
Sycophant-Thiefs and Republican Revolutionaries
Mortician-Cooks and Barista-PhDs
Angel-Ninjas and Dolphin-Insects
Self-destruction and Self-Sacrifice

Party Tricks and Erotica
Paper Plates and Magic
Wine and Underachievement
Relatives and Other Strangers
Resonance and Fire Crackers

Rodeo Clowns and Government Lawyers
Physicist Sluts and Reluctant Robots
Primitive Pimps and Fascist Comedians
Remorseful Babysitters and Buoyant Kidnappers
Weepy Jocks and Polka Dots

Whale Watching

A whale of a time
washed up on the beaches
raving and writhing and
glugging for air

Sanguine I had been
all afternoon, all week, all year
watching the waves
in mindless repetition
of all they'd been up to
for millions of years,
but this arrival delivered
a body blow
to my mind and the shore
flying, pressing, kneading
the sand like bread.

Unhinged I waited
with bated breath,
tried not to dwell
on the barnacles
clinging to its chin
or the shit flying out
of its spout.

A beaver a squirrel and a blue jay
who'd been watching the show
all took off
the scene too stark
for them to handle.

Nothing had prepared me
nothing could drag me away.
Something worthy of my attention
at last, at last.

The youthful moon rose
as I waited for more
but more was not allowed --
my new pal's egress regressed to an ingress
as he dove back into the sea
from which he came.
He was through with me,
with this sandy oasis
perhaps his own boredom
had been abated
in our too-brief rendezvous.

I walked back up the dune
became a farmer plowing thoughts
of all I'd seen,
awash with a vision
a dream, a cure.

11 p.m. in the Vegas Airport

This is my seventh time
in the Vegas Airport
an unplanned excursion
a road trip rerouted to air

Seven times has not proven lucky
The star wars game
won me over with graphic
emblems of my youth and
sucked up my 5 dollars
like so much space debris
on a tractor beam

Someone's playing Wheel of Fortune
one last time on their way out
They spin the wheel,
a cheer goes up from the electronic crowd
as they piss away the few remaining dollars
the Strip forgot to strip from them

The bar's still open for a few last guests
you can tell who has bets on the game
by how far off their stools they lean
meanwhile three feet from the entrance,
a set of kids sleep on pillows
pilfered from circus circus

The hat lying on the chair here
seems like an unlucky loss
one more thing left behind
snatched away by the town's cruel fates
until the young Asian dude scoops
it up, fortune with him again

Saturday's Poem

All of my great loves
have gotten married now
mostly to people
I don't approve of.

But then, that's not my job
is it?

Three of my great loves
are musicians, two are writers,
a couple in business and
one I don't really keep track of,
despite advances in technology.

Because that's not really my job,
is it?

One of my great loves
is dead, and some of
them can only be found
in books.

But then telling stories
has become my job,
hasn't it?

All of my great loves
have gotten married now

But then, so have I.

Friday's poem

I'm on the road, so posting for 2 days now...

My starter poem from yesterday first:


Solemly, slowly
sensually, stoned-ly
slamming

Obviously, originally
odiously, opportunely
opening

Weirdly, winsomely
wickedly, wantonly
winning

Happily, hauntedly
harrowingly, hotly
hoping

Actually, awfully
artfully, awesomely
advancing

Truly, tastefully
totally, temptingly
trusting

Get to know me!

Hello! Polly here!

I currently live in Toronto (not pictured here), but I lived in Winnipeg for 8 years before that. I've also lived in Nova Scotia and 9 of the United States (dual citizen), as well as England and Poland.

On the poetry side of things, I've had poetry appear in CV2 and Lichen and a writing group chapbook called 10 Best Pages. I was commissioned by CBC Radio for its 2006 Poetry FaceOff. This will be my fourth year participating in May Day.

But my creative focus for the last few years has been film and television. I wrote/ directed/ produced a couple of 16mm films, an experimental black and white video short, and a stop-motion animated short. I also served as script supervisor/assistant director on several Winnipeg short films.

A little over a year ago, I completed the Canadian Film Centre’s PrimeTime Television Writing Program. Over the last year, I've been the Associate Producer on a travel show called Bump! which airs on OutTV here in Canada, and around the world. I've got a couple feature scripts on the go as well as a couple of television series ideas I'm trying to get into development.

I miss poetry though, so this is a great way for me to get back to "short form" story-telling!

As far as my goals for this year's May Day project, I would like to complete 15-20 poems by the end of the month.

I look forward to reading everyone's work!